Why Everyone’s Talking About Robin of Larkspur
Hi! The Robin of Larkspur Kickstarter campaign is off to an exciting start! It's already funded so there's no risk to back now. You'll get your rewards at the end.
I'm sorry for any confusion on Monday. I wasn't expecting to shovel snow before work that morning. In all the rushing around, I forgot to hit the launch button and that the email was scheduled to send while I'm commuting so I couldn't launch it until I got to work. But it did launch and it funded so it all worked out in the end.
Today, I wanted to take a moment today to share more about why this series is so special and share more of the first chapter.
(Yes, this is Melinda again. Ran decided I should continue writing to you as me until the Kickstarter ends or he changes his mind, whichever comes first. He says he would complain about Robin getting all the attention right now, but she deserves it. So he’ll save that for another email. I promised him more books, and that made him happy, and me too because I love writing about him even if he drives me crazy,)
💪 Do you love strong heroines?
Robin is a powerful, fiercely determined mother who will stop at nothing to save her daughter—even if it means braving treacherous wintry mountains and fighting monsters.
📚 Do you prefer completed series?
No waiting here! Get the full Robin of Larkspur epic fantasy series in breathtaking special-edition formats.
✨ Do you love collector’s editions?
These books have it all: handpicked photography, gorgeous character art, gold foil, and even ribbon bookmarks for hardcover collectors. It’s a labor of love—and you won’t find these editions anywhere else.
🖼 What’s Inside?
Beautifully illustrated pages will draw you into Robin’s world. Here’s a sneak peek:
Don’t miss your chance to own these collector’s items. The campaign closes on February 19!
There are tiers for just the first three books or the last two books in the series too so if you just want to fill out your collection with part of the series, you can do that too.
Thank you for making this magical adventure possible!
– Melinda
***
Excerpt from book 1 of the Robin of Larkspur series:
Hunter’s Night
By Melinda Kucsera
Chapter 1, Part 2
“Don’t move,” The green-eyed creature said.
“Who are you?” Robin asked, risking a slice, but the knife didn’t bite into her exposed flesh. Did that mean this creature hadn’t come to kill her?
“I said not to move.”
The knife didn’t waver as it pressed into Robin’s neck and drew a bead of blood. Point taken. As Robin lay back against her makeshift pallet, she let her arm slide up until her hand touched the rolled-up tunics inside the rucksack she’d been using as a pillow. Robin had unbound her hair earlier, and it hung in a straight dark fall over her shoulder, it covered her arm and the hand she shoved into those tunics seeking a weapon.
“And I asked you a question. Who are you?” While Robin waited for an answer, she grasped the bone handle of her knife but didn’t draw it out of the rolled-up tunics hiding it from view. Her captor hadn’t told her to be quiet, and anger was coiling in her gut like a serpent ready to strike. Robin managed to keep that anger out of her voice but not her eyes.
They blazed with righteous indignation and a promise of retribution, but the fierce look was lost on her captor because there was only a little light filtering into the tent through the unsecured flap. It was enough to backlight her captor but not Robin since that creature’s shadow fell across her.
The temperature dropped as the tent flap parted again, letting in a cold gust of wind and a triangle of pale moonlight. Said light glinted off the buckles holding her assailant’s outfit in place as the womanish creature chuckled. Metal discs connected by silver rings clothed the creature holding a knife to Robin’s throat—if you could call that ‘getup’ clothing.
The metallic ensemble ended at the creature’s midriff. A divided skirt picked up where that left off, but it petered out well before a pair of hooves, not feet. Well, wasn’t that interesting. Enough to finally clear out the last cobwebs from the restless night.
Silver hooves—the sight triggered a vague memory, but it fled when a pair of pale green eyes that glowed captured hers. The womanish creature leaning over her grinned, showing off a set of perfect teeth. She was part deer and part human and just plain creepy.
“What do you want?”
Robin gripped the knife hidden inside the makeshift pillow under her head. She’d managed to work her whole hand under there without drawing her captor’s notice. Unsheathing it would be risky, but she felt better with a weapon in hand even if she couldn’t use it just yet. Years of training and ingrained muscle memory should help her land at least one solid blow even in this dim lighting. All she needed was an opening. Come on, bitch, give me one.
“I think you know what I want.” Her visitor traced the tip of her knife along Robin’s throat. “I ride the longest night where no light but mine shines. Pay the toll or heads will roll.”
The rhyme struck a chord in Robin’s memory. So did the silver horns curving up from either side of her attacker’s heart-shaped face. This thing was part of the Wild Hunt—oh crap.
Robin stared at her long-necked captor who bore more than a passing resemblance to a deer except hinds didn’t usually have horns just stags did. Brown fur so fine it blended to look like human skin kept her exposed bits warm, and there was a generous portion of her curves so exposed to the elements. A riot of brown curls tumbled down the Huntress’ back, and a leather band kept those locks out of her eerie eyes. They were pale green mirrors reflecting Robin’s growing horror.
The Wild Hunt. Oh, God, anything but those monsters. Robin looked away, disconcerted by the promise of pain in those eyes. Her nightmare was just beginning. Before it ended, whose lives would it claim? Not my baby, please Mother of God, protect her.
Rosalie wasn’t crying anymore, and the silence inside the tent was becoming as oppressive as the shifting shadows sliding over the Huntress’ sleek fur. A tear slid down Robin’s cheek at the thought of her sweet daughter lying in the bassinet beside her pallet, and the Huntress grinned. Outside, the wind howled and pummeled the tent with invisible fists as it gusted past again. By some miracle, the tent stayed up despite the onslaught.
“What do you want?” Robin asked again because she needed an answer.
“Your life, your death, either will suffice.” The Huntress shrugged as if she had no preference, nor any skin in this game.
Nearby, metal clanged, and a woman grunted. That must be Cat. Or had some unlucky band of adventurers lucked on to their camp? Rescue might be only seconds away.
It was possible. This trail had looked well-traveled before a storm had dropped a foot of snow on it. Robin had seen plenty of evidence to corroborate that assumption else she wouldn’t have made camp here, and they were heading for one of the most trafficked waterways in the country, the River Nirthal.
Some of her hopes must have written themselves on her face because the Huntress threw back her head and laughed again. The bitch thinks she has me cowed. Not likely, since her father was a Ranger. He’d be scandalized to see his daughter so easily taken.
Robin took advantage of that momentary inattention to swing her knife up and out of hiding. It slammed into the Huntress’ blade, shoving it aside then Robin was rolling aside to avoid that next blow and move the fight away from the bassinet and her too-quiet daughter. She’d have to check on Rosalie after the fight. She couldn’t risk doing so now.
***
That’s it for this week. Check out the Kickstarter & Back the Campaign to get an illustrated copy of Hunter’s Night and the rest of the series!
Have a great week!
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